Lost and Found Gardens

LOST AND FOUND GARDENS

            Almost three weeks after the late October snowstorm that created havoc all up and down the East Coast and cost the region thousands of trees, my garden is still a mess.  We are waiting for the tree company to come and remove a very large, downed limb that hovers over the still-working cable line.  Once the limb is gone, the line has to be cranked back up to its original altitude and the area where it landed set to rights again.  With luck we won’t have additional snow before that happens.
            The most noticeable thing about the rest of the garden is that butterfly bushes and other shrubs are splayed into pitifully unnatural positions.  Perennials that I hadn’t pruned back before the storm are flopped over in all directions.  Some individual specimens, like my beautiful Rosa glauca, with its brilliant red hips, have recovered.  Taken as a whole though, the garden looks like the morning after a really wild party.  The plants are still dealing with a really bad hangover.
            Little by little I am tidying things up and pruning the worn out, overgrown, broken and otherwise afflicted.  I install spring bulbs at the same time, because that chore is also urgent.  While working, I take solace in the fact that gardeners have been dealing with large and small horticultural catastrophes for as long as gardens have existed.  I am reminded of the story of a great American garden that suffered near total devastation six years ago and has been gradually returned to its former beauty.  The efforts involved were herculean, but the results have been inspiring for the restorers and for the public who have now returned to visit.
            Longue Vue, in New Orleans, came into being in the 1930’s.  Despite the Depression, Sears heiress Edith Rosenwald Stern and her husband, Edgar, had money to spend on a garden designer and they hired the best–Ellen Biddle Shipman. The lush, eight-acre garden she created at Longue Vue surrounds a large, gracious house that is described as “Neo-Palladian” or “Neo-Classical.”  Shipman’s carefully designed layout was inspired by European models and incorporated many different themed areas, including an azalea walk, a portico garden with formal parterres, a luxuriously planted wildflower garden, and an entrance allée of Southern live oak trees.  Carefully chosen sculptures served as accents and focal points.  Over time the garden evolved, and new areas, like the Portuguese-inspired Canal Garden were added.  As labor became more scarce and expensive, the walled kitchen garden was simplified, along with some other parts of the landscape,
            Eventually, in 1968, the property was opened to the public, which visited enthusiastically until August 2005, when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans.  As everyone knows, the human toll was enormous, with people, property and plants swept away.  When the flood waters receded, Longue Vue’s staff found that ninety percent of the perennial collection was dead, along with 200 trees and shrubs.  The call went out to garden professionals to come to New Orleans and help save what had become a part of the city’s cultural heritage.  The professionals came from all over the country and worked side by side with the staff and local volunteers to resurrect the garden.  Incredibly, less than a year later, in July 2006, all the gardens were open once again.  Now, visitors once again come to Longue Vue, which in 2007 embarked on a ten-year Landscape Renewal Plan.  It has become a symbol of New Orleans’ resilience.
            The lessons of Longue Vue are many–some more obvious than others.  Too much water is just as bad for plants as too little.  Even the worst devastation leaves a few survivors.  Restoration is a lengthy process, but is also a perfect opportunity for growth and change.
            The message about restoration is probably the most important to those of us with humbler, but equally well-loved gardens.  Winter is fast approaching and it is possible that not all the restoration and clean-up chores will be done before spring.  For now, do what you can and don’t worry about the rest.  The garden is not going anywhere.  If the weather truncates your efforts, use the “down time” to edit your garden plan.  After all, every departed specimen provides a space for something new.  And remember–not all the “dead” plants are really dead.  You may be amazed at what comes up, renewed and refreshed, in March and April.